A Case of Advancement
by Elizabeth Arian
Summary: A macarbe discovery leads Holmes and Watson to realise that the criminal classes are becoming powerful and that Holmes is powerless to stop them. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1 The Girl

**A Case of Advancement.**

**Chapter One. The Girl.**

The day was unusually bright for the time of year. It was December and the weather was bitter cold, but the frost on the ground of Baker Street sparkled in the winter sunshine. I gazed upon it quite fondly, remembering the days of my youth and school days in the frost and snow. Quite lost in my thoughts, I did not hear Holmes approach behind me, yawning and looking suspiciously over my shoulder, one eyebrow raised. He made some noise that was meant to engage my attention. Smiling I turned to him.

"Sorry Holmes, I did not see you. Good morning." I brushed past him to take a seat at the table, intending to partake in the lovely breakfast Mrs. Hudson had just left.

"Mmm…" he mumbled again, pulling his dressing gown tighter around himself, he left the window and took a seat opposite me, looking at me through heavily lidded eyes; he finally made some coherent sense.

"What on earth has made you so cheerful on this ghastly morning?" he asked yawning once more and tucking his legs underneath himself. He looked almost comical squeezed on to the small chair.

"Ghastly?" I replied, leaning forward, "You call beautiful sunshine and sparkling winter frost ghastly?"

Holmes groaned and flung his head back.

"Oh Watson you are an incurable romantic. It is cold and miserable and I am bored!"

I chuckled, taking out the newspaper I decided to ignore Holmes' bad mood and began to read.

"It is not a laughing matter!" He continued, sounding somewhat like a petulant child.

"Of course not Holmes, I am sorry." I struggled to hide my smiles. Holmes groaned again,

"Oh for Goodness sake what is it? Are you in love?" He said the last word with disdain and I could not help but laugh.

"No I am not, I just feel slightly nostalgic today and old, I miss my youth."

"And this makes you smile?" Holmes said sipping his tea and eyeing me over his tea cup.

"Yes, because it makes me think of happy times, when I was a boy, at school, meeting you."

Holmes smiled,

"Yes well, I can't say my boyhood was anything to write home about but our meeting was certainly an advantageous one."

I smiled back and returned to my paper. Holmes had risen to depart to his bedroom to dress when Mrs. Hudson burst through our door in a state of extreme anxiety. Rising I took her arm and led her to a chair, pouring a cup of tea for her which she waved away frantically.

"What is it Mrs. Hudson?" Holmes asked, dropping to one knee in front of her and taking her hand. Looking into his eyes she composed herself and began to speak. It always infuriated me how a man with so little experience with woman and no interest in them could be so understanding of them and have a way with them that I would have killed to possess.

"It's a girl Mr. Holmes." The poor woman spluttered, her hand in Holmes' visibly shaking.

"A girl? What girl?" Holmes raised an eyebrow but kept a firm grip of Mrs. Hudson's hand.

"Downstairs Sir. She collapsed sir, oh there was a terrible commotion outside so I opened the door to have a look and there she was, in the yard, bleeding and looking a deathly white. Oh it's awful sir, just awful."

"How long has she been there?" Holmes asked her, always practical in the face of adversity.

"I don't know sir, it can't have been long. That commotion I heard, it must have been to do with her mustn't it?"

Holmes nodded, but said nothing. I could not stand by while a woman was bleeding to death on our very doorstep. I made to go downstairs when Holmes stopped me.

"Wait for me Watson, I want to see this girl." He rose from his knees and released Mrs. Hudson's hand, "Stay here, we will go and see to the girl."

Mrs. Hudson nodded, her sobs catching her words in her throat. Picking up my medical bag from my chair, myself and Holmes advanced to the kitchen. On approaching Mrs. Hudson's back door we saw the girl which had so scared her. She was lying on her back, conscious, but only just, entirely covered in a fine layer of blood. Holmes stood in the doorway, simply staring at the girl. Placing my hand to her neck, I felt a faint pulse, surely all this blood could not be hers? Raising her to a sitting position, her eyes fluttered open and she coughed. At least she was alive, taking her into my arms I carried her to the kitchen, I placed her upon the cleared kitchen table and proceeded to wipe some of the blood away from her. Holmes watched me through this entire process without uttering a word.

"Is she alive?" Holmes asked, not advancing towards me, but watching from the far side of the kitchen.

"Yes, but only just." I had now removed the majority of the blood and found that it indeed was not hers, although weak and barely breathing, she was not in any way wounded. Holmes walked around the table to stand by the girl's head, placing a hand on her chest, he pressed down, immediately a small amount of blood rose to the surface of her skin. Amazed I watched as he did it again and more blood spilled from some unseen wound.

"How on earth?" I started, but Holmes silenced me, motioning me toward him. I stood behind him and watched as a perfect _S. H _formed upon the girl's skin.

"My God," I exclaimed in a whisper, "Who do you think sent her? And why her?"

"That, my friend, is what we must endeavour to find out. Attempt to stop the bleeding and tidy her up, you may put her in my bedroom until I can figure out where she came from."

I nodded and began to inspect the wound which was minute in it's detail.

"Where are you going?" I asked the retreating figure of Holmes, who turned at my voice.

"I think I may need some help with this, this person, whoever they may be is certainly not averse to killing innocents to gain my attention. Well I will not have it Watson, so I am going to fix it." He announced with finality, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind me. I looked at the poor figure in front of me and hardly knew how to begin. Where had she come from? Who had done this to her and why? So many questions flew around my mind that I felt rather dizzy. As I tended to her wounds and carried her upstairs to Mrs. Hudson's violent hysterics, I wondered what our world was coming to, that murderers and criminals had so advanced in their techniques of depravity that even Holmes was appalled and shocked by their actions. Maybe this time he would fail? The thought left my mind as quickly as it had entered it, no, if the criminals were advancing then I could imagine Holmes would rise to the challenge.

I placed the girl in his room as instructed; I had bandaged the wound up as best I could although the initials of my friend were still visible on the girl's chest. I shuddered at the thought of such a callous act. Her breathing had returned to normal with the brandy I had given her and the sleeping draught had calmed her. Her eyes fluttered gently in her sleep but sleep she did and her skin began to return to it's normal colour. Mrs. Hudson appeared behind me.

"How is she doctor?" She said in a hushed voice placing a hand on my arm.

"She will live."

Mrs. Hudson nodded; she then noticed Holmes' initials eerily showing through the girl's bandages and gasped. To prevent questions that I was too tired to answer, I ushered her out of the room and closed the door.

"I recommend you get some rest Mrs. Hudson, you've had a nasty shock."

"The good woman nodded, it is not the only shock I've had living with Mr. Holmes." She smiled up at me, obviously remembering her time as a spy for my friend; in which she had encountered many dangers. I smiled and patted her hand.

"Yes, we are none of us as young as we used to be however and I advise rest."

"Of course doctor, I shall take your advice of course."

She smiled once more, before leaving me alone to await Holmes' return. My eyes grew heavy as I peered into the fire Mrs. Hudson had made up and very soon I found myself drifting off, it was a move which very nearly cost me my life.

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_A brand new story. This, I am hoping, will turn into something quite long, so with that in mind please do not expect regular updates! Although I will update whenever I can. I have always wanted to do a Holmes novel so here it is, I'm trying it out on you lot! Reviews would be greatly appreciated, as would any ideas or comments on my writing. I'm not sure where this is going so I'll take it slow. Please enjoy and remember I own nothing but the plot!_


	2. Chapter 2 The Missing Heiress

**Chapter Two. The Girl.**

I had dropped off to sleep waiting for Holmes and had not been asleep long, before I was woken by a small tapping at the door. Rousing myself I looked up and saw the girl clinging to the door frame. I rushed to her and she all but collapsed in my arms.

"My dear, you should not be out of bed."

"Mr. Holmes, I must see Mr. Holmes." Her voice came in short gasps, which, it was evident she found extremely difficult. I glanced down at the bandage still covering her chest and resolved to be on my guard. We still did not know what this girl wanted or indeed, who she was.

"Mr. Holmes is not here." I said, as I practically carried her to a chair.

"Not here!" Her eyes pleaded at me, wide and frantic while her hands clutched at me. Disentangling myself I decided to try a tactic of Holmes' and knelt before her, still clutching her hands.

"I have no doubt he will be back soon and then you can tell us why you are here, and what has happened to you."

She shook her head and tried to stand but my grip on her was firm.

"No, you don't understand, it is dangerous for me to be here, danger for you both." Her eyes filled with tears, in spite of her dreadful appearance she was a well-spoken young woman and I wondered how such a person had come to such a fate.

"This is not the first time myself and Mr. Holmes have been in danger and I am sure it will not be the last. You must tell me who you are."

She stifled a sob and nodded her head, avoiding my eyes.

"I will tell you, if you promise to let me go."

"I cannot promise that."

The girl sighed and my heart went out to her.

"My name is Rebecca. I am a fallen woman." She sobbed again and I clutched her hands tighter.

"A fallen woman?" I asked.

"I doubt she means in the conventional sense Watson." Came a voice from behind me, I turned to find Holmes taking off his coat and hat, "My but it's cold out there, in spite of the sun."

He rubbed his hands together and, casting a quick glance at the girl, took a seat by the window.

"Do get off your knees Watson, you may never get up. Unless of course, I was interrupting some chivalrous gesture?" A small smile played around the corners of his mouth.

"Holmes please." I implored, rising to my feet. The girl was staring open mouthed at Holmes, and I could not say I blamed her.

"You are Rebecca McMallen are you not?" Holmes said to the girl, who still said nothing. Holmes sighed, "I have neither the time nor the patience to play guessing games. That is who you are yes?"

The girl nodded, not once taking her eyes from Holmes' face.

"How did you know that?" I asked, as bewildered as the girl, but hopefully concealing it a little better.

"Because Watson, I do my research and I follow through with that research. This morning I noticed a small passage in the times advertising for any information regarding the whereabouts of a certain young lady who had gone missing from her guardian's home about a week ago. Because of the length of time between the lady's disappearance and any new evidence, the police had nearly given up. The family however, refused and so placed an advert in the Times for information. No-one, of course, came forward. There was however, a small photograph accompanying the article of an attractive brunette, rather unusual in a missing persons case, I think you will agree. It was a photograph of the young lady we found lying, rather unceremoniously in our yard this morning and the one we now find sitting in our drawing room. May I introduce to you Watson an heiress to a small fortune, Miss. Rebecca McMallen."

Holmes finished his discourse and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Miss. McMallen simply stared at him, before dropping her head to her chest and sobbing. Hesitantly I put my arm around her, she leaned into me, grateful I think for the offer of comfort.

"Very impressive Holmes, but that does not explain how she got here or why the people who did this to her – well, did this to her."

"No Watson it did not, I am efficient, but I am not a marvel. I cannot work out everything without further information. Which, I am hoping, Miss. McMallen will furnish me with."

Holmes leaned forward toward the girl, who raised her eyes to his.

"Can you tell me who did this to you?" He asked, in a voice almost a whisper. The girl shook her head and began to cry again.

"She is still too weak to be questioned Holmes, I think you should let her sleep a little longer."

Holmes sighed and leaned back once more into his chair, tilting it to rest on it's hind legs. I fell once more, to my knees, to talk directly to her.

"You need sleep my dear, you are still weak and that wound," I nodded to her chest, "Must be quite painful still, surely sleep would be preferable to this distress you are causing yourself."

The girl looked at myself, then towards Holmes, then down at the bandage that covered her chest. Placing a forefinger on the blood that had seeped through, she traced the delicate _S. H _that had been carved there, she then pointed to Holmes.

"You. This is meant for you."

"Yes, I gathered that." Holmes replied dryly. The girl looked set to burst into tears once more, when I gathered her into my arms.

"Enough of this Holmes, she is on the verge of collapse, she is not an experiment, but a person in desperate need of your help. I think you should be quite ashamed of yourself."

I carried the girl to my room, instead of Holmes', feeling she would be more comfortable in my somewhat more domestic surroundings, than in the laboratory that passed for Holmes' bedroom. When I returned Holmes was curled up in his chair, smoking and gazing into the fire. I said nothing when I entered, but sat down and, opening a newspaper, began to read.

"Is the girl asleep?" He asked, without a hint of emotion.

"Yes." I replied, wishing that I could achieve the same callousness with him as he was adopting with me.

"Good," he replied, almost I thought with a hint of sarcasm. I could stand no more.

"Holmes that girl has _your_ initials carved into her chest by some lunatic and you are berating her, treating her as if she were the criminal!"

"She may be Watson." He answered, still refusing to look at me.

"I do not care! She is frightened, alone and you have no idea what she has been through, she was obviously sent as some sort of bait for you and…"

"Bait?" Holmes interrupted my sermon, "What makes you say that?"

"Well, your intials are on her chest, in her skin rather. If that is not meant to draw your attention then I don't know…"

"Yes!" Holmes screamed, jumping out of his chair, "To lure me, but lure me to what? And why? Ha! This case gets more interesting by the second Watson!" He turned to me, beaming.

"You're enjoying this. I do believe that you are actually enjoying this." I wanted to hate him for his callousness but I had lived with him for too long. I could not however, let it pass by. The smile left his face and he returned to his seat.

"I am sorry Watson. I do not mean to be so heartless but the world was becoming dull and now I have this case and it is original and enterprising and…"

"And it could have cost that child her life." I reminded him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair he turned to face me.

"Yes Watson, you're right, of course you're right." He stood and walked over to my chair and put a hand on my shoulder, "Make sure she is alright, I will make some enquiries as to her home and next of kin."

"Should you not inform them she is alive?" I asked looking up at him.

"Not just yet, not until we know what kind of people they are. I don't want her sent back to any kind of depravity, not after what she's been through."

His eyes were far away but I smiled, he seemed to sense it and looked down at me.

"I always knew you had a weakness for a damsel in distress."

"Oh Watson honestly!" He said lightly, before tapping my shoulder and once more disappearing through the door.

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	3. Chapter 3 The Family of Gold

**Chapter Three. The Family of Gold.**

As far as I was aware Holmes had gone to find the girl's family, where he presumed he might find them I could not imagine. I kept a close eye on Rebecca, fearing that her injuries may have been more substantial than I at first realised. Her breathing was becoming laboured and her skin was feverish. The wound was not healing as well as I would have liked. I contemplated moving her into a hospital, but thought better of it knowing that Holmes would not have agreed with me. The hours ticked by and still there was no sign of Holmes, I had given the girl a small does of morphine to calm her and her breathing had improved. Her fever however, was not improving.

"Oh Doctor, the poor child!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, appearing at the door behind me, carrying a bowl of ice cold water, "Is she very ill?"

"I'm afraid so Mrs. Hudson. I think she may have pneumonia."

"Pneumonia!"

"Yes, her symptoms match, but there may be something else, something that I'm not seeing."

"I'm sure you will figure it out doctor," she said laying the water down and patting my arm. I smiled, feeling how Holmes must feel every time someone patronised his abilities – which was often. I took the cold flannel from the water and pressed it to her burning skin. The action seemed to soothe her and she settled slightly. As I was performing this operation. Holmes burst in, throwing the door almost of its hinges.

"Holmes please I…" I started but stopped when I saw his face, it was ashen and he was staring at the girl with such intensity that I dared not interrupt his thoughts. His next actions amazed me more than I can express in words. He walked over to the bedside and sat next to her, taking her hand, he held it and leaned forward. Moving her hair from her face, Holmes kissed the girl's cheek, whispering something in her ear as he did so. Then rising and placing her hand on her chest, he turned to look at me.

"Keep her here; do not let her out of your sight."

I took hold of his arm before he could disappear once more.

"What have you find out?"

He sighed and gripped my hand.

"I suppose I should tell you."

"I think you must tell me."

Glancing at the sleeping girl, he nodded and motioned me to follow him. We were seated, smoking before Holmes deigned to tell me what he had discovered.

"The family are monsters Watson," he exclaimed, almost biting the end off his pipe, "I discovered their location from a number of my sources, I had the irregulars track a few people who I suspected of being involved with the girl and to watch the family home. Outwardly they are a respectable family but I have discovered more."

He paused here and I could have sworn that I saw him shudder.

"More?" I prompted, hoping to break him out of his reverie.

"The girl Watson, she is..."He faltered again, never had I seen Holmes at a loss for words.

"Go on." I prompted once more.

"They almost...they rent her out." He said simply, focusing such a gaze on me that I faltered beneath it.

"Rent her out?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, "You mean they..."

"Yes Watson, they are obviously not filled with family regard, they would offer her services to wealthy men of the district."

"But why? I thought you said she was the heiress to a great fortune?" I asked, becoming more disgusted by the minute.

"And so she is Watson. but that is not the point. Her father, Lord McMallen is interested in one thing alone, money, all money. It is like an obsession with him. Thank the heavens he only had one child, else Lord only knows what he would have produced."

"Why send her to you?"

"I am not sure that he did, her family are obviously concerned for her, or at least concerned as to what she may say should she be found. No, I think the family are innocent in this, well as innocent as they can be."

"Then who sent her and why?"

"Eternal questions Watson that have plagued mankind for centuries the what and the why. All in due course my friend."

I shifted in my chair, feeling somewhat tired and old.

"How did you find out about...the family?"

"And the girl?" he asked, to which I nodded, "One of the irregulars overheard a gentleman caller asking for her 'usual' services and became rather agitated when told she had been missing for several days. He was something of a regular I believe."

I shut my eyes, finding it impossible to picture that poor girl, alone and defenceless on the request of her father!

"What are you going to do now?"

Holmes cleared his throat, obviously as affected by the girl's past as I.

"Keep her away from the family for a start, then proceed to find out why she was sent to me and what possible connection we could have. She has been here for almost ten hours and no activity has been reported anywhere, by any of the agents I have posted. So," He paused, fixing me with a glare, "We wait."

...


	4. Chapter 4 The Wait

**Chapter Four. The Wait.**

And so we waited. Holmes was restless and would prowl about our small sitting room for hours, pouring over the daily papers and scraping upon his violin; much to the detriment of my nerves and the faith of our young charge. Rebecca was still with us, her condition had gradually begun to improve as she realised we posed no threat, and with the inclusion of regular meals into her daily routine, she began to grow stronger. She was, however, wary of Holmes; who eyed her with something between curiosity and suspicion. She had not said a word to either of us since she had come out of her fever and I think this fact was beginning to annoy Holmes, who was eager to pursue his case.

It was a Sunday morning and Holmes and I were lazing about in our dressing gowns presuming the rest of the house to be sound asleep. Holmes was smoking his morning pipe and gazing at the ceiling with his legs resting casually over the arm of his chair, I was reading the morning paper that our page had brought up when I noticed Holmes sit upright and take the pipe from between his lips. I placed the paper on my knees and turned to the door to see what had engaged his attention. Standing silhouetted in the doorway was Rebecca clad only in a thin nightgown, her arms folded tightly around herself and tears falling from her eyes. I immediately stood and went to her, she looked at me for a few seconds before falling into my arms convulsed with violent sobbing. I stroked the girl's hair and carried her to my chair. Holmes had not moved but simply gazed at the girl, seemingly scared to say anything to her should she turn on him in her hysterics. Gradually her sobbing began to subside and she looked a little embarrassed, I smiled at her and held her hand.

"What is all this about my dear?" I asked, in as soothing a tone as I could.

"I..I…" She faltered, suddenly nervous and evidently aware of Holmes staring at her.

"It's quite alright you can tell us." I prompted again, hoping to draw her out a little. She smiled at me again before replying.

"I am sorry for the trouble I have caused you." She glanced between Holmes and myself, holding herself stiff, in spite of the pain her wound was obviously causing her. Holmes' expression softened a little and he smiled.

"It is trouble that I live for," he said, somewhat enigmatically, "How are you feeling?"

Holmes replaced his pipe on the mantle piece and turned to look at the girl, who was staring up at him with what I can only describe as awe, written on her features.

"I am a little better, I do not remember much of how I came here or what has happened since."

Holmes smiled politely but continued to search her over with his inquisitive eyes.

"Do you remember nothing of your time before you came here?" Holmes asked, giving me a quick look before returning his attention to the girl. She shook her head and began to bite her lower lip, her eyes cast downward.

"I remember the pain and I remember a room, dark and cold where I slept, I remember shouting and many people coming and going."

"People?" Holmes asked, suddenly full of attention, "What kind of people?"

"Just regular people," She continued, wringing her hands in her lap.

"Did they come during the day or…"

"Oh no," She cut him off, "At all hours they would come."

"Men or women?" Holmes pressed.

"Both, mostly men, sometimes women, bad women…like myself."

She raised her eyes to Holmes, who was frowning at her, one hand resting on the mantle piece.

"You are not a bad woman Rebecca." Holmes said, it was the first time he had used her name. The girl smiled at him this time and seemed to relax.

"I am bad, my father tells me so."

Holmes fell to his knees before her and took her hands.

"You are an innocent girl, none of what has happened to you has been of your own doing, it is unfair the life you have led. You are far from being a 'bad woman' of that I am sure."

Rebecca said nothing but stared at him, the tears in her eyes glistening on the edge of hre lids, ready at any moment to overflow. Holmes smiled and cleared his thorat. Returning to his feet, he turned to me.

"Watson get your patient back to bed, I am going out."

"Out?"

"Yes."

"Have their been developments?"

"No, but something must have happened somewhere, I cannot stand this inactivity!" He almost shouted the last word and Rebecca shrank back in her chair.

"You must be careful if you are going after my father." She whispered, Holmes ceased his pacing and turned to her.

"Why would I be seeking your father?" He asked one eyebrow raised.

"Because he did this to me." She pointed at the scars on her chest, still covered with bandages. Holmes froze.

"He sent you to me?"

Rebecca nodded.

"Why?"

"I do not know. He said he must have your attention, he could not come to you because it would be too dangerous, he could not have you accepting other cases as well as his own, he wanted your full attention."

The tears that were ready to fall, now fell in torrents down her cheeks. Holmes all but ran to her and took her by the shoulders.

"He has my full attention and I promise you I will protect you from him and I will bring him to justice."

With that he was gone, a flurry of noise followed his exit and Mrs. Hudson rushed into the room.

"What on earth was all that?" She began but paused when she saw poor Rebecca in tears in my chair. Instinctively she rushed over to her and placed a blanket around her shoulders.

"My dear, you mustn't cry, Mr. Holmes will make everything alright, really he will. Isn't that so Doctor?" She turned to me, still clasping Rebecca whose tears had somewhat subsided.

"He has never failed to help anyone in trouble yet."

I attempted a smile but something about Holmes' manner had concerned me, as always I felt far behind my friend and was certain he knew more than he was telling me. I allowed Rebecca to be carted away by Mrs. Hudson and watched the poor creature as she sobbed her way out of the room. I was certain that Holmes was beginning to feel things for the girl, whether that be with a professional or personal interest I could not tell. My instincts told me professional but I had never seen him so enraged by a case. Maybe his age was creeping up on him as it was me, maybe he saw in Rebecca the daughter he had never had and felt for her what an enraged father might feel at her treatment. It was hard however to come to terms with the fact that it was her own father who had brought her to this state and perhaps that brought out the worst side of Holmes' character, as it would in any of us.

The morning had grown dark and rain was in the air. I watched the clouds break and rain descend over an unusually quiet city. I could hear Mrs. Hudson talking quietly to Rebecca in the other room and closed my eyes against it, I could not bear what that child had been through and I knew Holmes was finding her situation difficult; again the thought perturbed me. I watched as people rushed from the downpour and disappeared into houses and I prayed for Holmes' safe return from whatever pit of depravity he had plunged himself into for the sake of justice and a fair maiden.


	5. Chapter 5 Wisdom

**Chapter Five. Wisdom.**

I am afraid to start this part of my narrative with my own fears but I pride myself on always giving as honest account as possible and I feel I cannot continue with this tale until I have lain before the reader my own feelings at this point in the case.

Holmes had decided that as there was very little activity being reported by the agents that he had sent out to watch Rebecca's family then he would have to resort to investigating the matter himself. I am quite used to Holmes disappearing at all hours of the day and night and not returning for weeks on end, but it quite threw Rebecca into hysterics. She began to think that he had abandoned her, she would scream at me, begging me not to send her back, that she would kill herself if I tried. To my horror after returning home from a friends one night I discovered her, lying in a pool of her own blood after she had attempted to slit her wrists. Fortunately, she had only broken the surface of the skin and had not gone deep enough to inflict any lasting damage. It had, however, given her the shock she needed and her hysteria developed into melancholia. A melancholia that could not be shifted by anything I could do. I began to despair. Holmes had not been seen by myself nor anyone at the yard for nearly two weeks and I was becoming concerned. I was at a loss to what to do next. Did I attempt to find him or would that be dangerous? I dare not leave Rebecca yet though her temperament had changed to one of indifference rather than the hostility she had previously shown.

One night, after Rebecca was safely in bed I took a seat by the fire and began to read. My body ached, Rebecca had been particularly trying that day, her moods alternated between despair and general sadness. the moods were exhausted the poor girl as much as they were exhausting myself and Mrs. Hudson, who, bless her soul had remained by my side throughout the whole business. I had begun to drift off to sleep when I heard a faint rapping coming from behind me. I shrugged it off and after a few minutes it occurred again. the sound was coming from Holmes' bedroom, I got up and cautiously went to investigate. I nearly died at the sight that met my eyes. Two desperate eyes were staring at me, eyes set into a deathly pale face. It was Holmes, I rushed to the window and pulled him inside.

"Holmes!" I cried as I helped him to his feet. He leaned on me gratefully, "What on earth are you doing? Why couldn't you use the door."

"No reason actually, but as I get older I feel myself becoming lazy. We cannot have that."

I stared at him in amazement.

"I do believe you are quite mad Holmes."

He laughed quietly as he pulled off his jacket and replaced it with his dressing gown.

"Quite possibly." As he fastened the gown around himself, he turned to me, "How is she?"

"She drifts from mood to mood." Holmes smiled at my light remark, before striding into the front room and all but throwing himself into his chair. I stood silently in the doorway of his room, "She tried to kill herself Holmes."

"She what?"

"I do believe you're shocked."

"Of course I am. I am so sorry for leaving you to deal with her alone, I should have known she would be difficult."

"She isn't difficult Holmes, she's hurting."

"Yes, still I should not have left you. Has she recovered?"

"Physically yes. Mentally? I think it will take a while. But she is not beyond hope."

Holmes leaned forward and smiled at me.

"I'm very glad to hear it."

"And you? Where have you been? I was getting worried."

He stretched and yawned as I took my seat opposite him.

"Yes it has been a rather trying couple of weeks. Her family are quite despicable Watson, but the law cannot touch them, they employ others to do there dirty work for them, so nothing can be traced back to them. The girl's father spoke to me quite cordially, the swine even said that he hoped I had liked his message, and wasn't she a pretty thing and he hoped I had enjoyed her."

Holmes had clenched his fists around the arms of his chair and his face was flushed. I too felt nauseous at his words and bitterly sorry for the girl.

"Why did you come back?"

"Because I couldn't stand the ghastly business a moment longer, I was worried for Rebecca - and you." He added almost as an after thought.

"What now?"

"I don't know, I need to talk to Lestrade. This case is unique for me Watson."

"Unique, why?"

"There is no mystery in it, we know who sent the girl, who is abusing her and why the man wants me. The criminal classes have no imagination anymore. Evil is celebrated publicly and justice is ridiculed by them."

"It has always been that way Holmes, you just chose to ignore it."

I do not know what made me so bold, I would never normally say such a thing to Holmes, I respected him too much.

"I'm sorry?" He said, raising his eyebrows.

"When I first knew you, you took on cases that were challenging mentally, the majority of criminals know nothing, they follow a well-defined pattern, and they have the same motives, which to someone like you is absurdly simple and not worth wasting your talents on, and until Rebecca came into our lives and I have seen their crimes first hand, I would have been inclined to agree with you."

I tried not to look at Holmes, fearing his reaction, but he simply stared at me.

"When did you become so wise Watson?"

"I've always been wise," I replied with a smile, sensing his mood was softening, "You chose to ignore that too."


	6. Chapter 6 Powerless

**Chapter Six. Powerless. **

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes but there's nothing I can do." Lestrade sighed wearily as Holmes paced frantically up and down his office, smoke from his cigarette filling the room and almost bringing tears to my eyes.

"Nothing?" Much to my surprise Holmes' voice was calm and controlled, the man never ceased to amaze me, while I understood Lestrade's position, I would have expected Holmes to fight the Inspector's decision with all the determination I knew to be in him.

"No, I'm sorry. As you say there is no crime."

"No crime?!" I interjected; the poor girl was beaten, abused and dumped on our doorstep in a shocking condition."

"Yes, Doctor, but can you prove it was her father?"

I shook my head, rather reluctant to see his point.

"Look, I come across abuse cases all the time, she's not the first and she wont be the last, there's never anything to tie these poor creatures to their abuser, besides they're not strictly breaking the law."

"But…" I started, but Holmes interrupted me.

"He's right Watson, a man's word is law in his own home, even if he chooses abuse those he is meant to care for. Very well, I thank you for your time Lestrade."

Holmes ceased his pacing, stubbed out his cigarette beneath his toe and held out his hand to Lestrade, the Inspector shook it warmly.

"If there's anything you need me to do Mr. Holmes I'm at your disposal."

"Thank you Lestrade, I may take you up on that. This man is involved in more nefarious activities, of that I'm sure, and I'll find something that sticks, you see if I don't."

Holmes' eyes sparkled and I was aware once more of that fiery soul that lay beneath those calm eyes. Lestrade smiled,

"I've no doubt that you will Mr. Holmes, but I reckon you'll have a hard job of it, he's a clever bleeder and we've never been able to pin anything on him yet."

Holmes rubbed his chin thoughtfully,

"Ah yes Lestrade, but he's never had me on his trail before has he?"

Lestrade glanced at me and smiled, I shook my head in reply. We were, by this time in our association well used to Holmes and his insufferable ego. Turning on his heel without a word Holmes stalked out of the office,

"Goodbye Lestrade, thank you."

"Pleasure Doctor," Lestrade grabbed my arm, "Be careful Doctor, this man's dangerous – and clever. I don't doubt Mr. Holmes' power but I think we both remember last time he faced someone almost as formidable as himself."

I stared into the Inspector's eyes with dread, almost unable to believe what Lestrade was suggesting. Was he indeed comparing Rebecca's father to the late Professor Moriarty? I nodded silently before hastily following Holmes into the cab he had waiting.

"Where have you been Watson? I had to pay the cabby an extra shilling to wait for you…" His voice trailed off when he noticed my expression; I fear I had turned a little pale.

"Lestrade warned me to be careful. He said he remembered the last time you went against someone as dangerous as Rebecca's father."

"Against someone as dangerous as…? Oh…" Holmes burst into a sharp fit of laughter that virtually shook the carriage, tapping on the roof and shouting to the cabby we trundled off in the direction of home.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked, in all seriousness.

"Because it's absurd, there was one Moriarty Watson, one alone and he lies dead at the bottom of the Reichenbach falls."

"You can't rule out the possibility of another Moriarty Holmes, he may be just as dangerous, we have certainly seen he has nerve and very little heart."

"And that makes him the second Moriarty does it? Oh Watson don't be so dramatic." He had begun to quietly chuckle to himself when my voice cut him off.

"I couldn't do it again Holmes."

"Do what?" he asked, gazing out of the window.

"Grieve for you again; I fear it would kill me."

His eyes slowly turned to face me and he placed a quivering hand on my arm.

"You won't have to."

"Promise me that."

"I can't foresee the future Watson, but I swear to you I won't take this case lightly. You are right I must consider the possibility of another being as clever and as cunning as Moriarty. I am sorry for causing you so much pain."

I waved his hand away with a smile, already regretting opening my heart to Holmes.

"Just stay out of unnecessary danger."

"I will," he laughed, slapping me on the shoulder and returning to his usual, sarcastic self. As we rounded the corner into Baker Street, Holmes clicked his tongue against his teeth, which he often did when confused. I looked up to see he was staring at the front of our rooms.

"Something wrong?" I asked, as I paid the cabby.

"No lights."

I looked up and he was indeed right, we had been with Lestrade for much of the afternoon and as it was winter, the nights were drawing in at a very early hour, yet our rooms looked completely unoccupied.

"Surely Rebecca can not be sitting in the dark?" I asked Holmes but he was ignoring me and struggling with his keys to open the front door. Finally he succeeded and we carefully made our way into the hall. Silence met our entrance, an eerie silence and an all-encompassing darkness. Holmes pushed forward to the kitchen where Mrs. Hudson could usually be found busily working away, but all was silent. Slowly Holmes pushed open the door and rushed into the room with myself following close behind him. The sight that met my eyes will stay with me for as long as I live. Tied to a kitchen chair and gagged was Mrs. Hudson, unconscious and bleeding from a profound cut on her head. The kitchen itself was in a state of complete disarray, obviously suggesting a struggle of some sort had taken place. I stood dumbfounded until Holmes snapped me back to attention.

"Watson, help me." He had untied Mrs. Hudson and was taking off her gag; she was slowly beginning to come around. I picked up her slight form and carried her to a chair that was still standing.

"Mrs. Hudson?" I supported her head in one hand and patted her knee with my other; gradually her eyes began to register my face.

"Oh Doctor Watson," her voice was strained and hoarse.

"Don't try to speak." I urged, but she pressed my hand.

"That poor girl, oh Doctor what they did to that poor girl!" Her voice was cut short by a sob and her head fell to my shoulder. I held her there tightly, and cast a worried glance to Holmes who had already shot out of the back door into the darkness and into the arms of God knows what – and I was powerless to stop him.

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_Finally an update! More to follow, reviews are always welcome as are any suggestions – or criticisms! _


	7. Chapter 7 Dear Brother

_Dedicated to Westron Wynde, whose wonderful work has inspired me to try and become a better writer. Please read and enjoy…..Disclaimer, as always, applies. _

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**Chapter Seven. Dear Brother.**

Mrs. Hudson continued to sob onto my shoulder and I held her there, quite paralysed as to what action I should take next. Finally she seemed calmer and she lifted her head. She leaned back and I went to the open door that Holmes had, only moments ago, disappeared through.

"Where has he gone Doctor?" Mrs. Hudson's weak voice seeped into my consciousness.

"I'm not sure." I closed the door and turned to face her, "How are you feeling?"

"A little sore but I've no doubt I'll live," she smiled weakly at me, "It's her I feel sorry for."

I walked over to her, righted a chair that was previously on the floor and took a seat opposite.

"What happened Mrs. Hudson?" I had come to the conclusion that the wisest thing I could do was at least establish what had happened, rather than go on a fool's errand after Holmes.

Mrs. Hudson took a breath, straightened herself and began to talk.

"Well, not long after you and Mr. Holmes went out Rebecca came downstairs to say she did not want to be alone and would I mind very much if she sat in the kitchen while I worked? I of course agreed and she took a seat at the table while I baked. She was pleasant enough and asked the occasional question. Bless me Doctor, if she didn't know what a strawberry tart was! Said she'd never been given one before!" A cough cut short Mrs. Hudson's narrative and I felt a tug at my heart as I thought of poor Rebecca and what she must have been through, "Well, I had just put the tart into the oven when there was an almighty crash at the back door, Rebecca screamed and two men burst into the kitchen, my kitchen Doctor!"

I smiled at her indignation, but let her continue,

"Rebecca fought them tooth and nail she did, but they hit her and beat her until she lay quite unconscious on the floor. I'm afraid I was little use to her, I was appalled that men could treat any woman that way, eventually I found my voice and went to try and help her but they hit me and knocked me to the floor. I was so stunned I…I couldn't move," she began to sob and I clutched at her hand, feeling the anger rise within me at such treatment of two defenceless women, "By the time I came around, Rebecca was gone and I found myself tied up and gagged. I must have been here for at least two hours before you and Mr. Holmes found me."

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm so sorry."

I could think of nothing else to say, we had failed her, failed them both and now Holmes had disappeared.

"What about Mr. Holmes?" Mrs. Hudson's voice seemed to echo my thoughts, I looked to the window, where the night beyond was now well advanced.

"I'm not leaving you again Mrs. Hudson; not yet. I will give you a draught to help you sleep and then I will tidy up here."

"You're just going to wait for Mr. Holmes to come back?" She asked, expressing the incredulity that I felt.

"I fear I can do nothing else."

Mrs. Hudson nodded. I helped her to her feet and led her to her room, where, after a few moments and a sleeping draught; she was settled and peaceful. I left her there and returned to the kitchen. Lighting a few lamps I began to clean the mess that had become the kitchen when I heard a noise from outside; reluctant to look out for fear of finding something I would rather not, I went against my better judgement and opened the door. Standing in front of me was a man about six feet in height and dark, he possessed kind but guarded eyes and was clothed in a heavy overcoat that seemed rather too large for his slight frame.

"Can I help you?" I asked, being careful to guard the door.

"Are you Dr. Watson?" the man asked, his voice youthful, posing a direct contradiction to his appearance.

"I am." I replied, still wary of this dark stranger.

"Then I am at your service."

I fear I laughed at this bold statement, which the stranger seemed to take no offence at.

"First I think you had better tell me who you are."

"I am Rebecca's brother."

My face must have displayed my surprise for the stranger laughed and pushed past me into the kitchen. He at once began to pick things up and rearrange them into a more orderly fashion, as if he had been doing it all his life. I watched him from the door way, too stunned to assist him - or even to stop him. Her brother? My mind reeled. What had been a long day was turning into an even longer night. I shut the door and stood silent in the doorway, my fears for Holmes, I am sorry to say, playing second fiddle to my surprise at the appearance of Rebecca's brother.

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_I was really unhappy with the last chapter; I thought I could do much better. In my defence it was written after a long day at work, at 11pm so…but still. If anyone has any suggestions or comments on my writing I'd be more than happy to hear them! Or if you enjoyed it I'd be more than happy to hear that too!_


	8. Chapter 8 The Doctor, not the Detective

_**This chapter is dedicated to KCS whose review of the last chapter got me thinking and wondering why he should want the good Doctor and not Mr. Holmes….read and find out…**_

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**Chapter Eight. The Doctor, not the Detective. **

"I'm sorry _you_ are Rebecca's brother?" I asked, my voice a little more high-pitched than usual. The young man ceased what he was doing and turned his smiling face upon me.

"Yes," he paused, holding a chair in mid-air, before righting it and sitting on it with an air of finality, ""I know my appearance may have caused you quite a shock Doctor, I apologise."

I shook my head absent-mindedly and took the seat that Mrs. Hudson had previously occupied, feeling almost as concussed as she had been.

"Yes, it has. Why are you here now? Why have you not tried to stop what is happening to your sister?" I fear my rage was taking hold of me, I had formed quite an attachment to Rebecca in the short time she had been with us and the thought of her own brother turning a blind eye to her situation filled me with indignation. The man sighed and ran a hand through his mass of dark curls.

"You do not think that I have tried? I tried for years to protect her, but she is too valuable to them, she brings them much money. They are powerful men Dr. Watson, my father and his…associates. They forced me out of the country. There was nothing I could do. I thought I would be of more use to my sister alive, so I went."

He paused here to gain my reaction, and I could of course see his point. I merely nodded.

"Where have you been?" I asked, feeling my voice settle once more into its natural rhythm.

"Oh all over," he said, leaning back in his chair, "I have been somewhat of a Jack of all trades the world over."

I nodded again, unsure of how to continue the conversation. Then something struck me,

"Why, when I opened the door to you did you ask for me and not Holmes, I should have thought he would have been of more use to you."

"I have been watching this house for some time Doctor. I have seen Mr. Holmes come and go, I know him by sight, but he is a formidable man and I did not want to just approach him. I needed someone I felt I could trust. I am not certain that Mr. Holmes is this man yet."

I nodded again, Holmes did appear formidable to those who did not know him. In spite of this explanation I was feeling slightly more confused.

"But you had never seen me?"

He nodded.

"No Doctor, you have somehow eluded my attention."

I smiled.

"If you have been watching the house then you knew Rebecca was here."

"Yes, I followed my father when he dumped her here after mutilating her with that…" he broke off and I knew he was talking about the initials of my friend that Rebecca still bore the scars of, "I could not stop him. It was too early to show myself, if he knew I had returned he could have done worse things to Rebecca than that. I needed to keep an eye on her until the time was right to reveal myself. I am afraid that I had left my post when your house was ransacked yesterday and Rebecca was taken. I am sorry about your housekeeper, is she alright?"

"Yes, she will be, she is sleeping. Do go on, I am filled with curiosity about your story."

He nodded again and leaned forward in his chair.

"I returned in the late afternoon and found the back door open; I saw the kitchen in disarray and your housekeeper on the floor, unconscious. Rebecca was also unconscious while two men sat at the table smoking. I hid behind the wall and waited for them to leave, taking Rebecca with them. I am sorry but I had to follow them, I could not help your housekeeper. I am very sorry."

I nodded again, understanding his position must have been a very difficult one for he seemed like a good man.

"Why did you come back now?"

"I felt I should make my existence known to you. I saw them take Rebecca to my father's house. She is safe, they will not harm her, at least until my father returns. I have read about you Doctor, you seem to be a fair and honest man. I felt I could use a man like you to help me save my sister and as such I had no fear in revealing myself to you."

I smiled at his compliment, used as I was to people speak that way of Holmes rather than myself.

"Is Mr. Holmes not here?" he asked, looking behind him at the hallway beyond.

"No, he disappeared not long after we had discovered Rebecca gone."

"He has gone to find my father; he must know he has her."

He stood up with such force that his chair clattered to the ground.

"Wait, you must not go after him alone. I will come with you."

"What about…?" he pointed to the ceiling indicating Mrs. Hudson.

"She will be fine, she is asleep. It is not her they are after."

As I raced to get myself together I realised I did not even know this man's name.

"William." He replied with a smile. I nodded and together we raced out into the night to find and help the people we most cared about, my friend and William's sister.

_**Reviews much appreciated!**_


	9. Chapter 9 No Choice

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**Chapter Nine. No Choice.**

Not that I thought running haphazardly out into the night was the wisest course of action but I fairly got carried along with William and his desire to get to his sister. He moved at a pace that, being not as young as I once was, I could only just about keep up with. Soon we were outside of the City and heading toward the East End, passing through this rather unsavoury part of London we came to a public house which was unusually large and imposing for the run down area it was situated in; and it seemed, to my eyes, rather quiet and deserted for the time of night. There were a few lights to be seen seeping through the yellowing curtains that adorned the many windows, but there was no noise, no drunken revellers loitering outside; nothing. The building itself was drab and neglected, the only light to be seen was rather sickly looking as it seeped through yellowing curtains at a crumbling window on the bottom floor. Making his way around the building, William crept through an open doorway and motioned for me to follow. I did so with some apprehension, feeling that I should perhaps have waited for Holmes' return. After all I did not know this man from Adam and here I was following him into, what may well have been, the jaws of hell – and willingly! Still I reasoned there was little else I could do under the circumstances, not knowing where Holmes was or the girl, or even if they were both safe and I would rather be doing something than cleaning like some domestic back at Baker Street.

And so I followed him, into the gloom which seemed to suffocate once one was actually inside the building. There was a stream of light falling into the hallway from the crack in the door a little lower down, through which could be heard muffled voices. William put a finger to his lips and crept forward, I stayed where I was, unsure of how to proceed. Soon he returned to me and fairly pulled me into an adjoining room, pulling the door to a gentle close he lit a small gas lamp from the window sill.

"What is this place?" I whispered, feeling I could be kept in ignorance no longer.

"This, Dr. Watson, is where my sister and I grew up."

He said this with a smirk on his face, as if he were expecting me to turn my nose up at such an upbringing, my own was nothing stately and I was certainly no snob so I remained silent, disliking his smile. I had met many a man whose low upbringing made them feel that the world owed them a debt and had set about tormenting the rest of mankind who they felt should suffer as they had. William was no different, I could see it the moment he smiled at me and the stance he assumed was defensive yet also critical of his own childhood.

"Why are we here?" I asked, not rising to his bait.

"She's here, in the next room. There's someone with her, I can hear his voice but it is not my father."

"Here? Is this not rather an obvious place to bring her?"

"My father does not conceal his deeds doctor, he has no need to, and he knows the law cannot touch him."

I shuddered as I knew this to be true.

"What are you going to do?" I asked as William's attention drifted from me to the wall of the adjoining room and back again, "I hope you are not thinking of doing anything rash, I fear I should not be able to help you should anything happen, I am not the man I was."

William gave out a short laugh,

"I sincerely doubt that doctor."

He was a strange boy, for he was little more than that. One moment he could make me intensely dislike him, then the next make me glad to know him; not unlike my relationship with Holmes.

"No I was not suggesting that," William continued, breaking me out of my reverie, "I cannot hear voices anymore and if you look to the floor you will notice that the light from the next room has gone out. I suggest we go in and have a look."

Again, I thought this not the wisest course of action, but without Holmes I could think of little else to do. Quietly we left the room we were in and crept next door, gently William opened the door and crept inside, once we were sure that there were going to be no surprise attacks, William relit the lamp that he had brought with him. We were both stunned by what we saw. Seated back to back and tied by their hands were Holmes and Rebecca, Rebecca was unconscious but Holmes' eyes grew wide as he saw us.

"Watson, never was I more glad to see you." He smiled as I rushed over to him and removed the gag from his mouth and the ties from his hands; he cast a quick glance at William, but said nothing, "They have beaten her quite badly Watson, there was nothing I could do…"

He broke off, never have I seen Holmes at a loss of what to do or say, William had untied his sister and was now cradling her in his arms. I went to her and checked her pulse, she was alive – just.

"She will live." I promised William who turned two boyish, tear filled eyes upon me.

"What happened Holmes?" I asked, turning to him.

"Not here, we don't have time. We must leave before McMallen's men come back."

"Her father did this?"

Holmes turned to me,

"Of course Watson, we have already established that he is not the best of parents, he let them grow up in this when he may have given them everything did he not?"

I nodded sheepishly, I had forgotten that McMallen was a wealthy man; he obviously had decided that none of that wealth should go to his children.

"Come quickly, we must be gone."

Picking up his coat from the floor, Holmes strode out of the room with myself and William who was now carrying his sister, following close behind. Once safely outside and into a cab Holmes began to explain. William sat entirely focused on his sister, Holmes' coat wrapped around her slender frame and myself keeping a close watch on her fluttering pulse.

"It was foolish Watson," Holmes began once we were safely away, "to go after them, I knew McMallen had that place from my various agents and I assumed that is where he would take her, to lure me there. And I was right; I walked right into his trap. He was there, he made me watch while they…" Holmes broke off and swallowed, William pulled Rebecca closer to him.

"I am sorry Holmes."

Holmes waved my concern away and continued,

"They had me gagged and bound and when they had finished with her they tied her to me, I should never have gone but my main concern was her, I am afraid logic played no part in my actions."

"That certainly does not sound like you Holmes."

"It will not happen again Watson; never again will I allow my emotions to cloud my judgement. But what they were doing, what I _knew_ they were going to do prevented me from acting as I usually would!"

I could see this case was getting to Holmes and resolved to ask Lestrade for the help he had offered as soon as possible – with or without Holmes' approval. Soon we pulled up to Baker Street and once more were safely inside. I checked on Mrs. Hudson, who was now awake and had been rearranging her kitchen, she very nearly had a relapse when we all walked in. Rebecca was placed in Holmes' room once more with William vowing not to leave her side. Mrs. Hudson made up a bed for him next to Rebecca and one for Holmes in my room. Only once all were safely asleep did I permit myself to call on Lestrade. He readily agreed to help me and I returned to Baker Street feeling tired and old. I had never before deceived Holmes and I felt unbelievably ashamed that I had done so now. But I had no choice, at least that is what my conscience told me…I had no choice…

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**_Reviews always appreciated!_**


	10. Chapter 10 Men Like You

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**Chapter Ten. Men Like You.**

Holmes awoke early the next morning and seemed genuinely amazed that he had managed to sleep for so long. I reminded him that this case was far from normal for us and that it was quite obviously affecting him, however he brushed my comments away with a wave of the hand and began his early morning smoke. The weather was quite clear and crisp for December and it perked up my spirits a little, I was still trying to forget my visit to Lestrade the previous evening.

"Are you alright Watson? You seem a little distracted this morning." Holmes' voice swirled around my head as if in a dream.

"I am just worried about what McMallen will do when he finds you and Rebecca gone." I lied.

"I expect we would have heard something by now if he was at all concerned that we had escaped. This man seems to enjoy playing cat and mouse." As if to prove that my well-being was secondary to his actual problem, Holmes continued to talk about the criminal classes not being what they were, that perhaps the world was becoming a more brutal place; but I fear I only heard a little of what he was saying. Before Holmes had the chance to launch into a complete lecture, William appeared at the door. Holmes stopped and motioned him in and, directed him to a chair as the poor boy all but collapsed into it, looking as if he had had not a wink of sleep. Even though I had assured him that Rebecca's pulse had stabilised and she was in no immediate danger.

"You have not slept William." I said, pouring him a cup of coffee, which he accepted without so much as looking at me.

"I am sorry I could not stop them." Holmes said, leaning forward. William sipped his coffee and looked sideways at my friend.

"It is not your fault Mr. Holmes, my father is…well, my father is a coward but his friends can be very persuasive. Rebecca is not the only one they have used." William's voice was icy and he avoided our eyes. Holmes shot me a quick glance to gage my reaction, and I nodded to show I understood what he had insinuated. Holmes shook his head and sighed.

"How can such a man be permitted to exist?" He stood and walked over to the window, gazing down into the street, he continued to smoke. William watched him.

"And yet he does. Mr. Holmes. I believe that if anyone can stop him, it is you."

Holmes broke his gaze from the street below and smiled at him.

"I wouldn't be so sure."

William placed his coffee cup on the table with a rattle and stood to face Holmes.

"Oh but I am sure, I never knew there could be such men as Doctor Watson and you in the world, I thought no goodness existed. I have travelled far trying to forget my life in England and I have not succeeded, I never wished to set foot on this Isle ever again and were it not for Rebecca I never would have done. I am glad I did for it has convinced me that there is still good in the world, that as long as there are men like you and the doctor that are willing to fight for what is good and true then this world may continue to spin and people may yet achieve happiness, that evil and darkness need not succeed."

William's eyes were wide and he was breathing heavily, myself and Holmes had listened to his speech in stunned silence. Holmes walked over to him and placed both his hands on William's shoulders.

"I will stop him and I promise that you and Rebecca will live out your lives free from this beast."

Holmes had such fire in his eyes that neither William nor I dared speak. The silence was interrupted by a knock from Mrs. Hudson at our open door.

"I am sorry to disturb you gentleman but there is a message from Scotland Yard for Doctor Watson and the boy is requesting an immediate reply."

"For Doctor Watson?" Holmes said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes sir."

"It is nothing," I said quickly, "I am helping Lestrade with something that is all. I shan't be long."

I quickly took my hat and coat and disappeared downstairs to give the boy my message, I heard Holmes' voice calling me back but I did not care I needed to go, it was for his sake I was going.

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**_Just a short chapter to update. Reviews, as always, are appreciated. _**


	11. Chapter 11 Peace

_Disclaimer as always applies. Any suggestions or anything you want to say message me and let me know! _

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**Chapter Eleven. Peace.**

"I don't blame you for wanting to help him Doctor, but as Mr

"I don't blame you for wanting to help him Doctor, but as Mr. Holmes says this McMallen's beyond the law."

"But how is that possible?" I asked, bewildered. We were sitting in Lestrade's sitting room, smoking a cigarette and talking over the case. Lestrade was not at work, having asked special leave to assist me with my case. It was a useful thing, when one has built up a reputation, to be able to request assistance from the top organisations in the country.

"He's a crafty bugger, if you'll pardon the language, he don't do anything himself, just sends his lacky's to do it for him, we got plenty of them, but then there's plenty of replacements, plenty of folk round the East End that's skint and'll do pretty much anything to make a bob or two."

I had to agree with him, there were plenty of people who would risk life and limb to make ends meet, but still, I could not pardon the fact that Scotland Yard knew of McMallen's activities and still remained idle.

"But," Lestrade continued, seeing my distress, "That doesn't mean I'll not help you, I want to see this man behind bars as much as you."

I nodded,

"I'm not sure what we can do Lestrade, I just know that Holmes cannot face this man alone."

"No, of course not. I'll keep an eye and do what I can."

"Thank you Lestrade, at the moment I cannot ask more than that. I must be going," I said, standing up and shaking the detective's hand, "Holmes is already suspicious and it wouldn't do to arouse those suspicions further."

Lestrade laughed as he saw me out,

"No, indeed it wouldn't! I haven't known anyone to come out of Mr. Holmes' suspicions without harm."

"No, indeed." I forced a smile and hailed a cab from the busy street below.

My journey home was one filled with apprehension and doubt. Was going to Lestrade the right thing to do? Was it going to help in any way? I have to admit that during that journey home I doubted it very much. The houses passed by in something of a haze as I rounded the corner into Baker Street, the house looked very much as it did when I left it and I wondered if the occupants within were quite as peaceful. As I turned my key in the door I could hear Mrs. Hudson's voice from the kitchen, she was talking quietly and gently, as I approached the door – my curiosity getting the better of me – I saw Rebecca awake and smiling, drinking tea and talking quite happily to Mrs, Hudson. I closed the door on this scene and made my way up stairs to face whatever wrath Holmes had planned for me. I pushed open the door and found William sound asleep on the couch in front of the fire, a blanket pulled tight around his shoulders, and Holmes curled in his chair engrossed in a book. Holmes raised his eyes as I entered and cast a brief glance at William.

"How was you visit?" he asked in almost a whisper.

"Fine," I replied, taking a seat gratefully.

"Just fine?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Holmes I afford Lestrade the same confidentiality in his cases that I afford you in yours." I said, somewhat haughtily, leaning back and closing my eyes. Holmes made some derogatory noise and returned to his book. I was full of questions of Rebecca but was so desperate for silence that for the moment I let it pass. It was Holmes who spoke first.

"Rebecca is awake."

"Yes, I know I saw her in the kitchen."

"Are you not curious as to what she said or how she is?"

"Not particularly." I replied, aware I was annoying him but I relished these little moments of revenge.

"Well, she did not say anything I did not already know and I believe she feels quite well, apart from a little bruising. Her mental state however…" he trailed off and I opened my eyes to find him staring at William, sitting up I followed his gaze and his train of thought. Indeed, what would their mental state be after all they had been through? I could not imagine how one would live with such experiences. Holmes let out a sigh that seemed to echo my own thoughts and began to smoke, which he always did when at a loss.

"It wont work Watson." He said, almost to himself rather than to me.

"What wont?" I asked, still looking at the sleeping boy.

"Seeking help from Lestrade." He said simply, not looking at me. I believe my mouth must have dropped through the floor for Holmes smiled at me, "Watson really you are the most transparent of men, you would make an awful criminal."

He chuckled again and returned his gaze back to the fire.

"You are not angry?" I asked in something of a shaky voice.

"Heavens no. Why should I be angry? Because you feared for my safety? Because you want to see an evil man given the punishment he deserves? No Watson, these are the qualities that make up you and I would not have it any other way."

In all the years I have lived with Holmes, he never ceased to amaze me. I could think of nothing to do but smile stupidly at him.

"Watson please alter you expression, anyone would think I had just declared my undying love for Mrs. Hudson."

I laughed and disappeared to my room to write up what you are currently reading, I left Holmes reading intently and William sleeping and in spite of the danger we were all facing I don't believe I had ever felt more at peace in my entire life.

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	12. Chapter 12 Threats

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****Chapter Twelve. Threats.**

William was still sleeping when Rebecca reappeared in our rooms; I had returned to the sitting room by this time and was also engaged in a book. Holmes looked up from his work when she entered and stood to greet her. She smiled as he took her hands,

"How do you feel?" he asked, gently guiding her to a chair.

"A little sore." Was her simple reply.

"You look better." Holmes continued, taking a seat opposite her while still holding her hands. Whatever happened in that house had obviously forced the two of them into some sort of understanding, there was a bond between them now and I had seen that look in Holmes' eyes before; I knew he would die before he would let her go back to her father.

"How are you?" She asked quietly.

Holmes seemed momentarily put out by this question, but to his credit he merely replied that he was quite well and thanked her warmly for her concern, she seemed satisfied by this and turned her attentions to her brother lying peacefully at her side.

"Poor William." She whispered.

"When did you last see your brother Rebecca?" Holmes pressed, I was not sure I was entirely comfortable with his questioning her so soon after her ordeal but she seemed happy to talk to him so I let it be.

"A long time." She was stroking Holmes' hands now, almost absent-mindedly, it seemed to affect Holmes' concentration for he pressed his fingers over hers and held them there.

"How long?" he pressed.

"I was very little when William went away." She was not looking at Holmes now but at her brother who, rather surprisingly, still slept.

"Do you love your brother Rebecca?" I thought Holmes' question rather irrelevant but he silenced me with a glance. Rebecca nodded,

"He looks after me."

"How does he look after you?" I could not see what Holmes was getting at but kept silent.

"He used to send me money and presents from far away. He would keep me away from him."

Holmes sighed. I could see that he was becoming frustrated with this case. It was not usual for him, this working in the dark, not having an actual crime to pin down or to actually investigate and the gall of the man was getting to us both. At this moment there was a knock at our door, Rebecca stood and placed herself at Holmes' side who placed a protective arm around her shoulders as he bade the person enter. Rebecca let out a sob as the man entered and pressed her head against Holmes' chest. McMallen.

"What are you doing here?" Holmes' voice was as cold as I had ever heard it and his eyes were like flint.

"I could ask you the same question considering the last time I saw you you were tied up." He let out a vile laugh and glanced at his sleeping son. "It worked then."

"I beg your pardon?" Holmes asked also glancing down at William.

"My my Mr. Holmes! You must be getting old! Did you really think William asleep?"

Holmes visibly paled as he all but flung Rebecca at me and bent down to William, calling his name and shaking the boy he desperately tried to wake him up.

"What have you given him?" Holmes demanded.

"Nothing that'll kill him if that's what you're worried about. Just enough to keep him out the way for a bit. It'll wear off."

"How can you do this to your own children?" Holmes asked quietly, maintaining his reserve in front of this monster much better than I. McMallen seemed bored with Holmes for he turned his attention to me.

"You must be the companion." He smiled again and I felt nauseous.

"Get out of here McMallen." I could think of nothing to say, nothing to do, I just knew I needed to see him leave.

"Oh I don't think so, not just yet. I think we need a little chat first. And besides," he looked menacingly at Rebecca, "I haven't got what I came for yet."

Rebecca clung to my shirt desperately.

"And you never will get her." Holmes replied, stepping closer to me.

"You think you can stop me Holmes? The world's a changing place; the powers that be are as corrupt as the rest of us. I'm her father; you can't keep her from me."

"I can and I will."

McMallen sighed dramatically.

"You and me aren't that different Holmes."

"It is Mr. Holmes if you please and we are nothing alike."

"Very well _Mr. _Holmes, have it your way, but we are; we both fight for what we believe in."

"And what exactly do you believe in?"

"I believe I'm doing the right thing, helping people that ain't got no life, no hope."

"Helping them?" Holmes' voice was rising and I was concerned that the situation was spiralling out of his control, "By terrorising them? Torturing them? Reducing your own children to quivering wrecks because of what you do to them!"

"People do crazy things when they ain't got no choice, drives people to do some terrible things."

"We always have a choice. Now if you don't mind this conversation is over, please leave my house."

"I want my daughter." McMallen's voice had changed from one of triviality to one of purpose; he took a step towards Rebecca who clung tighter to me.

"Over my dead body." Holmes almost growled at the man. McMallen smiled.

"No, your body is too valuable, his on the other hand."

Before anyone could move McMallen had revealed a revolver from inside his coat and pointing it at me, let out one shot into my chest. A searing pain swept through me as I fell, I heard Rebecca scream and Holmes say my name but then I heard nothing, I saw nothing – there was nothing.

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	13. Chapter 13 Without Him

_**Holmes contemplates...**_

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_**Chapter Thirteen. Without Him.**_

_I could have killed the man right there and then were it not for Rebecca clinging so desperately to me. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was sobbing as her world crumbled around her. I saw him fall to the ground and I saw McMallen run out of the room. I heard a scream from downstairs – Mrs. Hudson. I heard her footsteps running frantically up the stairs. I saw the blood pouring out of my only friend and I wanted to die. I saw Mrs. Hudson appear in the doorway and her face pale, she ran to him and began pressing on the wound to stop the blood. Rebecca had fled to her brother who was still unconscious. I could not move, my feet felt heavy and prevented me from going to him._

_Mrs. Hudson is pleading with me to get some help. I must move, I must. Eventually my feet obeyed my brain and I moved, I ran out into the street and I summoned help. An ambulance came and took him away; I have never felt so useless. Mrs. Hudson was holding my arm and without thinking I put my arm around her. She began to sob into my shirt, unaware that I was not moved by such things – or perhaps she was aware and merely wanted to feel my presence against her. I wanted nothing. No that is not true; I wanted this case to be over. I wished I had never set eyes on Rebecca McMallen, her coward of a brother or her loathsome father. For then he would not be fighting for his life so far away from me._

_I walk back to the house and deposit Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen where she says she will make some tea and bring it up. I nod, but I do not want tea. Rebecca is still there, holding her brother. Without looking at her I lift William from the sofa and place him in my bed, I ensure he is comfortable and I leave her there with him. She turns two tear-stained eyes up to me and apologises. Doctor Watson was a good man she says, the kind she would have liked for her father. Now he will be no-ones father. _

_Mrs. Hudson brings in the tea and asks about Rebecca. I tell her she is with her brother in my room. Mrs. Hudson asks why I am not reassuring her, telling her it is not her fault. She says she can hear the girl's sobs from the kitchen below. She tells me that the girl needs me. I ignore her. He needs me. I do not care about the girl. She persists. I nod and move to the bedroom, Rebecca looks up. I take her her tea and she sips it, she never takes her eyes from my face. She puts down her cup as I sit next to her on the edge of the bed. I stroke away the stray hairs that have stuck themselves to her wet face and she leans into me. She is sobbing into my chest and I am stroking her hair feeling nothing but contempt._

_That is my job done. She is asleep next to her brother who drifts in and out of consciousness muttering the name 'Rose' every so often. This could be significant. I do not care. Lestrade came, he told me that he is stable but it does not look good. I thank him for the information and he leaves. It is dark out, I hear some noises in the street below and I look out. It is a young couple who fall drunkenly into each others arms. They should be the ones on the edge of death not a good man like him. I shut the drapes and sit before the fire. Mrs. Hudson comes in to tell me she is about to retire. I nod; she walks over to me and pats my shoulder. I feel I should smile at her, she seems satisfied with this._

_I do not sleep. I do not leave my chair. I contemplate putting my hand into the fire to feel anything but this awful desolation. I do not. I smoke, I smoke pipe after pipe but it does not help. I can see dawn peering around the edge of the drapes. Still I do not move. The realisation that this is my first day without him strikes me. Perhaps it will be the first of many. I cannot bear it…_

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_**Slightly different style with this chapter. Let me know what you think.**_


	14. Chapter 14 Time to Heal

**_Phew, that's a lot of chapters in one day...I think I'll give it a rest for now! It's been a slow day at work...Thanks to KCS whose faithful reviews of my work keep me going! Please read and enjoy..._

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**Chapter Fourteen. Time to Heal.**

Those few days following the shooting I unfortunately have very little recollection of. I drifted in and out of consciousness and was only vaguely aware of my surroundings. I was aware of how close I had come to death and thanked God daily for sparing me my life. I do not know the ins and outs of how close I actually came and for my peace of mind I think it better that I do not know. I do not remember seeing Holmes but just assumed he was busy with Rebecca and William. The only company I really had was with the lovely young nurse who saw to my wound on a daily basis. Her name was Gwen and she was the loveliest thing I had ever seen – next to my late Mary of course. I looked forward immensely to her visits, this was selfish of me I suppose considering the danger Holmes and the children were in, but I allowed myself a few moments of weakness. She was far too young for me of course but it was a pleasant feeling, at my age, to look into the eyes of a beautiful young woman. It was so this morning as Gwen appeared to dress my wound. She always asked how I was feeling but this morning I could tell she had other things than simply amusing me on her mind.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, trying not to wince as she fastened the bandage with a little less care than usual.

"I don't mean to be a bother Doctor but I confess I am a little worried."

"Worried? About what?"

"There's a man Doctor."

She bit her lip and looked towards the door of the ward with some apprehension.

"A man?" I persisted following her eyes, half expecting to see the said man loitering outside. There was no-one however.

"Yes, he follows me sometimes, home. He's not sinister or anything he always looks like he's about to say something but then disappears before he actually does."

I closed my eyes in annoyance and sighed as realisation hit me.

"What does this man look like?" I asked.

"Well, he's very tall, and thin. Almost too thin if you ask me, erm…dark hair, always sort of swept back and fashionable, well-dressed, certainly a gentleman but nervous like and sort of…jittery."

I smiled, as accurate a description of my friend as I had ever heard.

"I know him. He is a little…nervous around beautiful women. Do not worry; he's harmless – to most. Could I ask you to do a favour for me?"

"Certainly." Gwen said with a smile that made my old heart flutter.

"Could you send him a message for me?"

"Of course, provided that he doesn't run away before I get the chance."

She smiled and I returned it, wishing I did not feel so old.

The next day Gwen came to see me and told me she had delivered my message. She said Holmes had been very kind to her and had taken her back to Baker Street to meet Rebecca and William, who was now recovering from his ordeal. She said Holmes was extremely charming and it was in the midst of this glowing description of my friend that the man himself appeared at the door. Much to Gwen's embarrassment and Holmes' amusement. I motioned him to come in which he did, bowing to Gwen as he did so. She blushed prettily before making an excuse to depart. Holmes smiled after her and then turned to me, his usual nonchalant self.

"Taken to seducing nurses nearly half your age Watson?" he asked with a smile. I did not smile back. After nearly fifteen years with Holmes I was well used to his ways and usually his displays of coldness did not concern me, they were part of him and should be accepted as one accepts the flaws of others whom one cares about. But I had nearly lost my life, and he had not been to see me once.

"Where have you been?" I asked as he sat at the edge of my bed. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat.

"I am sorry Watson but there were things to be taken care of, responsibilities and there were the children."

"They are hardly children," I replied, cutting him off, aware but not concerned that I had called them such in the past, "I nearly died Holmes."

"Do you think I do not know that?" he said quietly, playing with the corner of the blanket, "I could not bear it Watson. I cannot bear to be useless and I could not help you. I could not sit by your side and watch as you faded away before me, knowing there was nothing I could do. I am not as brave as you like to think."

I could feel my eyes begin to sting with tears but I blinked them back.

"So you followed my nurse instead?" I smiled, amused by the thought of Holmes being wary of speaking to someone as harmless as Gwen. If I did not know him better I would have sworn Holmes blushed.

"Yes I admit it was foolish but after having neglected you for so long I felt I could not merely waltz in and demand to see you. But that does not mean I was not concerned for you."

I smiled and nodded.

"Incidentally, thank you for the message; it saved me from a rather awkward conversation."

I laughed gently.

"Holmes she is only a little older than Rebecca, yet you can't talk to Gwen the way you do Rebecca."

"I thought I was very charming to Miss. Perry. She said as much herself." Holmes smiled mischievously at me.

"Miss. Perry? Holmes your chivalry will be the death of you."

"Most likely, it was very nearly the death of you." The smile had disappeared.

"It was both our fault. We underestimated the man."

"Yes," Holmes drew out the word in a hiss, "There is however one good thing that has come out of this."

"Oh?"

"Yes, Lestrade has admitted that he can no longer ignore McMallen's activities and has persuaded Rebecca and William to testify against their father."

"Won't that be incredibly dangerous for them?"

"I also will testify and I will do everything in my power to protect them."

"Of course but to what will you testify?"

"To the attempted murder of my very great friend naturally – and of course as a witness to the abuse of McMallen's position as a parent."

I nodded, Holmes had still not divulged what exactly had gone on when he and Rebecca were held by McMallen and I knew better than to persist with my curiosity.

"And how are they? Rebecca and William?"

"Better. William is angry and eager to move on, Rebecca is scared and confused. She, I fear, will take longer to heal."

"They will."

Holmes nodded but there was no smile. He was far away, lost to those recesses of his mind where I could not follow.

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	15. Chapter 15 Moving On

**_Last Chapter! Not quite as long as I'd hoped but I think it wraps things up - An epilogue will foloow though so it's not over yet!_

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**Chapter Fifteen. Moving on.**

About a month later I was released from hospital and sent home. I had one more wound that would surely ache as my previous old jezail bullet wound throbbed at every change of season. Still, I had my life and I was home, I could not ask for more. Rebecca and William had become permanent fixtures at Baker Street, having taken over my room while I was recuperating in hospital. When I returned, having been escorted back to Baker Street by Holmes I found them much changed. Rebecca had put on a little weight and there was now a healthy glow in her cheeks, while she remained quiet, she was affectionate toward me upon my return and William looked healthier than I had ever seen him and was evidently still very protective towards his sister, keeping a constant watch on her every move. This concerned me a little, as Rebecca had suffered quite enough male domination in her short life, and I felt she could do with a little freedom from it, however well its intention. Still, in spite of my misgivings, they looked happy and rested and were eager to move on. I could not blame them but after having them in our lives for so long, both myself and Holmes were a little reluctant to see them go.

"What will you do?" I asked William, the night after my return. We were seated in front of a blazing fire and were sipping warm tea that Mrs. Hudson had kindly prepared before retiring. Holmes was absorbed in a file that his brother had bade him look at, which no doubt had national, if not international importance, and Rebecca dozed sleepily next to him, occasionally dropping her head onto his shoulder; an action which would normally have sent Holmes running for the nearest door, but he merely moved his shoulder lower to accommodate her. I marvelled at the change in him since Rebecca's rather dramatic arrival. My thoughts were interrupted by William's reply.

"Mr. Holmes has kindly arranged for me to work as a clerk in one of his brother's offices in Whitehall." William cast a quick glance at Holmes who ignored him, William smiled and shook his head. I smiled back.

"And Rebecca?"

"She is to serve the tea in a few meetings and generally make herself useful. I believe the work will be good for her, it is not difficult and it will keep her occupied."

I nodded, it was a good idea, and I wondered if it was Holmes and not William who had thought of it and arranged it.

"Where will you live?"

"Again Mr. Holmes has been so kind as to arrange some rooms for us not far from here, with our combined incomes we should be able to afford it."

At this Holmes glanced up,

"I thought it would be a good idea to keep them relatively close by – just in case." He added, before returning to the file in his hand.

"When is the case due to be heard?" I asked the room, rather than anyone in particular.

"In a month or so." Holmes replied, not looking up.

"Yes, a month. It is strange to think that in that short time all this horror may be over." William glanced at his sleeping sister, resting on Holmes' shoulder and sighed.

"It will be over, McMallen will certainly be convicted," Holmes said, also looking down at Rebecca, "Especially if I have anything to do with it."

I smiled reassuringly at William, Holmes had never failed to get his man and I was certain that he would not fail now.

"I will be sorry to see you both go." I said to William, "It has been rather pleasant having a full house."

"We will be sorry to go Doctor, no-one has ever been as good to us as you and Mr. Holmes, I don't know how we could ever repay your kindness."

William looked between myself and Holmes and I waved away his compliment, Holmes looked up briefly and smiled but was evidently much engrossed in his work.

"What about McMallen's men?" I asked Holmes, "Surely they are still a threat?"

Holmes looked up at me and shrugged,

"There are always threats Watson, but not to these two, McMallen was the only one interested in torturing his children, his men were only interested in the money he could get them. They will no doubt have moved on to the next job now McMallen is out of the picture."

I nodded, Holmes' logic always made me feel rather stupid for bringing up such a redundant point.

"And of there is any chance of repercussion from McMallen's conviction, I will be there. Hence my wish to have them close by."

I smiled, my friend never ceased to amaze me. William yawned.

"I think I shall retire." He said, "Thank you for letting us take over your room Doctor."

He smiled at me and went over to his sister to gently wake her; she smiled up at him and allowed herself to be led.

"Not at all, I'm sure Holmes will give up his room for me."

I raised an eyebrow in Holmes' direction.

"Mm? What?" he asked, once more looking up, "Oh yes of course, take it."

His eyes once more went down to the file and I smiled. William and Rebecca said goodnight and retired. Left alone I thought I would venture to get from Holmes what on earth was occupying _all_ his attention.

"Something my brother deposited in my lap this morning, a file on an organisation in America that may have implications on a few organisations here."

"Organisations?"

"Criminal activity Watson, as this case has demonstrated, is becoming more daring, less conscious of being caught, and more daring. There are criminal organisations being formed and someone must stop this rise of _organised_ crime."

I could tell from his voice that Holmes had decided to take on this fight single-handedly if necessary – and he was determined to win…

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	16. Epilogue

The day dawned darkly, the weather was miserable and the house was cold and silent. Holmes sat precariously on the windowsill and gazed down into the street. I watched him but remained silent. I knew his thoughts were far away and i worried for him. Rebecca and William had been gone for nearly a month and Holmes was...well, _missing them. _Both myself and Mrs. Hudson had noticed the change in him and as irrational as Holmes' behaviour nearly always was, this latest development in his character was causing us a few sleepless nights. His listless eyes took in the street below and he sighed. I suggested a walk which, to my suprise he agreed to. The day was cold, Christmas had come and gone and now January was in full flow and the winter had really begun. I pulled my coat tighter around myself as I began regretting my suggestion of a walk. Holmes led us into Regent's Park and paused in mid-stride. I raised my eyes into the biting wind as i saw what he was looking at. Rebecca and William.

"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson!" Rebecca shouted, running happily up to us. she was a changed girl, she had filled out and her hair had grow in in length and thickness, she was dressed fashionably and appeared a confident young woman. she grasped my hand and gazed at Holmes who smiled back, tipping his hat to her.

"Rebecca you look wonderful." He said in the most genuine voice of admiration i had ever heard him use toward a woman. Rebecca thanked him and smiled. William appeared at her elbow and shook Holmes' hand.

"It is good to see you both." He too appeared more confident and healthy.

"My brother tells me you are progressing well in his department."

William smiled,

"Yes your brother's department is very...unique Mr. Holmes...but I'm sure that you knew that."

William smiled enigmatically at Holmes who remained silent, but nodded his head slightly. I had no idea what they were talking about and neither it appeared did Rebecca for she too remained silent.

"I'm afraid we must be going. We are going to see a friend of ours, she invited us for tea and we are already late."

"Yes of course." Holmes replied bowing over the hand she offered him.

I kissed her cheek and she blushed prettily. We said our goodbyes and had begun to walk away when William called us back.

"I very much hope to work with you again Mr. Holmes., you and your brother of course."

Holmes smiled gently and tipped his hat to the departing figures.

"Whatever did he mean by that?" I asked watching the two disappear around the corner.

"I haven't the foggiest idea Watson." Holmes replied, with the hint of a smile in his voice. I looked up at him as we continued our walk and was pleased to note the sparkle had returned to his eyes - even if I was oblivious to the cause of it's return.

_I'm sorry that I have taken an absolute AGE to post this epilogue life has been crazy - and I mean crazy. It's been a tough month but hopefully life is getting back to normal. I'm sooo sorry for the wait but I hope you enjoy the conclusion and thank you for sticking with me this far!_


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